Full Moon Wanderings
by Skep
Summary: A peroxide blonde vampire returns to 'Sunnyhell' after 10 years to save a redheaded woman from a werewolf attack. WO, hints of SW


Title: Full Moon wanderings  
Author: Skep, or Lu  
Summary: A peroxide blonde vampire returns to Sunnydale after 10 years and saves a redheaded woman from a werewolf attack.  
Rating: PG-13... I think. In my opinion it's pretty tame but my mum and best mate got freaked out... for a reason which I honestly cannae think of.  
Feedback: GOD DAMMIT YES PLEASE!!  
Authors notes: This is my first BtVS fic, and it's actually my English GCSE coursework with a few alterations... :) please I would love feedback (and decent title suggestions!) please please please! Also I'm British (k, actually Australian, but it's one hell of a long story) so please, deal with British spelling!

The lone figure stood in the shadows of the school, his lean form briefly illuminated by the flicker of a cigarette lighter. It had been years since he was last at this place. Almost too long.

The last time he was here was with Drusilla, the woman he had been in love with for over 100 years. *Crazy bint,* he thought. When they had been there, his sire, Angel, had lost his soul and become Angelus once more, returning to the duo and taking Drusilla from him. Well, there was no chance of that happening now. When Angelus had been given back his soul it had been made permanent, delighting the man's sire, but on the other hand sending Drusilla over the edge. One day the stars had apparently told her to go and look outside, and she was dust before his brain could register that it was daytime.

An ear splitting scream shattered his thoughts like shards of glass, bringing the startled man back to reality. He whirled around, his long leather coat flying behind him. His eyes narrowed as he tried to place where the scream had come from. He scanned the area, mentally cursing himself for coming back to where he wasn't wanted.

Breathing in large amounts of unnecessary oxygen, he waited silently for any other signs of life, of what had made the sound, of what had caused it. He sighed and took a drag from the cigarette, knowing that it was pointless to wait for the creature - whatever it was - to appear.

Taking another look, he documented how different the school looked to when he was last in Sunnydale. It was in ruins, the rubble still there after however many years it had been. The residents had either been to scared to investigate why it was ruined, or too stupid to realise that the area could be used again. Dust no longer covered the grass nearby, but the school- or what was left of it- was thickly layered in it. The area was lit only by the full moon, hanging above, shining brightly through the clouds that scattered the sky. The entire scene was cold; uninviting; lonely.

Over the ten years that had passed since he was last there, the school had changed, but the man hadn't.

Aged a little over 150 years, he was regarded in the eyes of many as 28. Only those trained to recognise the signs of the creatures that lurked in the night knew him for what he really was. A vampire. A vampire that, in his years of the dark side, had become one of the most feared ever, by mortals and demons alike. A tiny part of him regretted the terrible things he had done, but this vague feeling was overwhelmed by the force of an urge for blood.

Mentally shaking himself, he dragged his mind back to the present to join his body. He shrugged after hearing no further signs of life in the area, and continued to walk alongside the trees.

He descended the slight hill, turning slightly to manoeuvre around a particularly overgrown bush. He absently noted how the grass on either side of him had not been cut for at least a year, and how bright the full moon was.

He turned the gentle corner, a familiar smell hitting his nostrils; blood. He looked down to see the body of young woman at his feet, certainly dead, having been so for at least an hour. Her matted hair hung down in dark brown curls, spoiled with splashes of deep red blood. Her partially intact clothing consisted of dark trousers and trainers, a simple blue shirt and white jacket. Fragments of material were shredded and scattered around the area surrounding her, tainted with blood. Pools of thick red liquid seeped from cuts and gashes on her corpse, spreading on the gravel terrain below them and onto the vampire's chunky boots. Knowing instinctively that the woman was not suffering from a lack of pulse due to a vampire attack, as there would have been no spilt blood, he tried to place the scent that was irritating him. It was familiar, and yet, peculiar. The creature that had initiated this attack was certainly not human, as no mortal could have placed the savage and animalistic wounds on the young woman. This was undoubtedly a demonic attack. All demons carried a certain odour, it vaguely wavered from each member of that species.

A howl echoed nearby. The vampire looked sharply up to the sky. The full moon. The howl. The mauling of the woman. Something registered in the man's brain. Werewolf.

Adopting a predatory stance, the vampire re-spread his weight until it was evenly balanced between both of his feet. He shifted to the face of his true nature. His canine teeth lengthened, becoming much sharper and prominent. Ridges formed on his forehead and his eyes glowed an intense yellow. He crouched slightly, the moonlight reflecting off the white-blonde of his hair, glinting from his fangs, making him look all the more dangerous.

He moved swiftly, easily making his steps silent, so as to take the werewolf by surprise. Another scream reverberated across the district, recognisable as the voice that had shrieked before. The vampire increased the speed and length of his strides, stumbling to a halt as he realised that the path gave way to a sheer drop. He paused, and scrutinised the ground below him. His eyes locked onto a dark shape, and he realised that it was two figures, one a petite female with blazing red hair whom he vaguely recognised, the other a short and male werewolf covered in coarse grey hair.

The vampire backed up several steps, and jumped from the ledge. His coat fluttered behind him, abruptly falling to its original position as he landed on the ground with a muffled thump.

Quickly re-assuming the position of a hunter, he stalked silently across the grass with animalistic grace. As he neared the figures he paused to observe the redhead. She wore blue jeans, trainers and a fuzzy pink sweatshirt. Her short auburn hair shone brightly, framing her delicate face. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, but her face was contorted in pain as the werewolf pinned her painfully to the ground. *Bloody Hell!* It was Willow Rosenburg, assistant to Buffy Summers, the only slayer to have lived long enough to be able to retire. Willow was begging the wolf not to take her life, and it seemed like she knew him.  
"Oz, please no, no, oh don't kill me please... Oz I'm so sorry for whatever I've done, please just don't kill me, no no no no...." The werewolf, known in the daytime as Daniel Ozbourne, had no recollection of the woman at all. It moved in to make one final, deadly bite when the vampire decided to make his presence known.

He growled low in his throat, and the werewolf's head whipped around. Dark eyes glared into yellow, maddened that the vampire had interrupted his kill. It charged at the vampire, it long jaws gnashing as it grew closer. The vampire rapidly side-stepped the wolf and brought his fist around to connect with its back. He delivered a powerful roundhouse kick, connecting with the werewolf's jaw with a sickening crack. The wolf rose from its position on the ground and clawed at the vampire's chest, shredding the red shirt that the man wore over a black t-shirt.  
"Oi!" The vampire shouted. "That's my favourite shirt!" The wolf took no notice, slashing his face, drawing blood. The vampire swiftly inflicted a series of sharp blows to the werewolf with inhuman speed, giving it no chance to retaliate. He paused, contemplating the damage he had done. This however, was just the distraction the wolf needed. It rose, intent on having its revenge on the vampire. Suddenly it stopped, sniffing the air. The curious vampire quickly did the same, making out the scent of another werewolf, this time a female. The werewolf's gaze locked with newcomer as it prowled towards the original group.  
"Veruca..." the vampire faintly heard the redhead mutter. The two wolves moved towards each other, the male desiring to assert his dominance over the female, and at the same time find a mate. They rushed together, snarling, and slashed at each other. Their sharp fangs snapped against each other's flesh, and blood trickled downwards along their hairy bodies.

The vampire regarded the two for a moment, and then decided to leave the scene. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward, before chancing one last look at the young woman. His face changed back into its handsome human façade as he noticed she was bleeding profusely all over her body. The vampire's sensitive hearing listened as her heartbeat grew slower and fainter. He viewed her once more, his eyes drinking in her pale skin and attractive complexion.  
"Spike...?" she murmured, attempting to reach a hand out to him. "You came back..." Her face broke out into as large a smile as she could muster. In that split second, Spike made the decision to turn her, to make her into a vampire like himself. There was no doubt that if she could keep off a werewolf for as long as she had that she would make a powerful vampire, the only one that would be able to equal William the Bloody.

He swiftly lifted up her body and sprinted gracefully with her to a sheltered clearing far away from the werewolves. He set her down gently and kneeled next to her, once again shifting to his true face. He loomed over her and brought his mouth near to her swan-like neck. His fangs grazed over her skin as he contemplated whether or not he was making a mistake. Deciding that he wasn't, he pierced her flesh and drained her until almost all of her blood became his. He then bit gently into his wrist and brought it up to her mouth, urging her to drink. She suckled weakly for a few minutes, and then grew stronger. He pulled away and she lay back down as the whine of a hurt wolf was heard in the distance. He waited.

That night, two werewolves found their equal, and yet another innocent person surrendered themself to the dark side of the creatures of the night.


End file.
